


two words, not three

by cygnes



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8059402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cygnes/pseuds/cygnes
Summary: Freddy doesn't have time to catalogue his regrets. He doesn't have time for anything else, either.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://manzanas-amargas.tumblr.com/post/146877293950/mr-orangemr-white-16-or-20) on my tumblr. Written for [skazka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skazka/pseuds/skazka) ([harkerling](https://harkerling.tumblr.com/) on tumblr), for the prompt "things you said with no space between us."

_Christ_ , Freddy thinks when he’s on the verge of passing out, _of all the ways to end up in your lap_. Larry is talking to him. He’s panicking, only catching every other word. He doesn’t have time to catalogue his regrets, but if he did—

No. Even if he did, his personal feelings are somewhere near the middle of the list, and there’s nothing to regret, because nothing could have happened. ( _It could have, though_ , some part of him says; _undercovers do all kinds of shit to keep from getting made. If he ever asked, and you said yes, there would have been plausible deniability._ )

He keeps it together as well as he can. _Stay awake_ , he thinks. He doesn’t bother thinking _stay alive_ because that ship might have already left the harbor. That’s not within his control. What is within his control is whether he stays aware enough of the situation to work it to his advantage for as long as he can. Long enough for someone to catch up to them, for fuck’s sake.

Freddy’s vision goes in and out, so he focuses instead on listening. Voices echoing off tile, in a room nearby. Radio. Screaming.

There’s a gun in his face and he thinks _okay, motherfucker, okay_ ; he says something, probably, but then White ( _Larry_ ) steps in to do the talking for him. Convenient. Freddy tries to hold onto the moment, but it’s harder and harder. There’s pain, sure, but the worst of it now is the itch where blood has pooled and half-dried and stuck his shirt to his body. Freddy has stopped fighting for his life. Larry ( _White_ ) hasn’t.

Then there’s more blood (not his). Larry’s hands on him again. Sirens. His eyes aren’t focusing right anymore, but he’s still got sound. He’s still got touch.

This is where he should just let it happen: say _I love you_ and make it mean something to Larry before the end. Romeo and Juliet; Bonnie and Clyde. He makes a harder call.

“I’m sorry,” Freddy says.


End file.
